Heroin
by PeopleBoreMe
Summary: Severus always took Harry's pain away, whether he wanted to or not. HPSS Oneshot. [warnings: slash, smut, drug abuse, mentions of mpreg]


A/N: Hey, all! I just got bored one night and decided to write a little one-shot… and this is what my twisted mind came up with. I should warn you that this is my first one-shot AND my first lemon. I hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: drug abuse, graphic sex, mentions of mpreg. If any of these offend you, please don't read my story.

This mini fic was beta'd by MysticSilverAngel. All hail!

The title was meant to be written as **Hero(in)**, but something for some reason ffnet didn't like the parenthesis.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Severus, or Hogwarts. I do, however, own the plot.

On with the fic!

Colors. That's all he could see. They swirled and twirled around him, bright and everlasting and terrifying. They were in different shapes, too- over to the left was brown, shaped like a desk; over to the right was a spot of black, shaped like a chair; ahead, oh, ahead was the most magnificent of them all: a smear of blue shaped like the ever-expanding sky as seen through a window.

Now, they were reproducing and multiplying; to the left were two desk-shaped browns, to the right were two chair-shaped blacks. The bright blue, though, never seemed to change. It didn't multiply or shrink, and Harry knew that it made sense- the blue was pretending to be the sky, and how could the sky ever multiply? It was already so huge.

These colors, though, were tricky little devils. Now, they had decided to really play with Harry. The two browns and the two blacks careened sharply to the right in a haze, and Harry, from his position on the floor of the dusty canvas of grey- which was pretending to be a classroom floor- swooned and felt his head hit the floor with a 'thunk' on the left.

It was like this every night. Harry'd stopped thinking it was bad. He'd done it so many times that watching these colors masquerade was as natural as breathing. He'd come to this old, crappy classroom and lock himself up here after curfew. Then, he'd take out his bag- one that Hermione and Ron could never, ever see- and empty the contents. Harry always gasped and threw his head back as his beloved needle pierced his skin and he injected himself with tangible relief. Then, it was just a matter of moments as the addiction swept through his veins and through his pounding heart and then he was free.

That was usually when the classroom pretended to be colors. Or did the colors pretend to be the classroom? Yes, that was it. The colors were the ones pretending.

Harry's skin got warmer and warmer and a flush spread across the spotless pale; the colors were pretending to be _him_ now. Harry sure as hell wasn't pretending to be the colors. Harry never pretended. He knew this because he wasn't red- no, he was a pale, porcelain white but now the red was creeping up along his skin in blotchy waves and Harry was shocked and amazed. Red was tricky and mischievous, if it was brave enough to pretend to be him. All the other colors stuck with normal things- like a desk, or a chair, or a floor. Except for blue. Harry decided that blue was probably tricky too.

Now Harry could hear the door- darker brown- opening and turned as best he could to see what color would decide to come in next. This was the first time anything like this had ever happened; usually, the door stayed shut behind him. In walked a cloud of black and Harry had trouble seeing exactly what the black was pretending to be. Hadn't it just been a chair? Harry looked to his right- no, the chair was still there. Two, actually.

Black must be another tricky color.

The black got closer and closer to Harry and came into focus. Harry decided that black wasn't tricky; it was downright cruel. The black had shaped up into a pair of shiny shoes, leading up to formal teachers' robes. Then, the black tapered off into creamy white: a slender throat and strong jaw, high cheekbones. Then black again- masquerading as beautiful dark eyes; white pretending to be a forehead; black finishing the picture as it mimicked long strands of shining hair.

These colors, these goddamned colors, had decided to pretend to be Severus Snape. They must have gotten good; it was the only other human being, besides himself, that Harry had ever seen the colors pretend to be.

"Helloooo, Professorrr." Harry's greeting was lazy but deliberate; he'd pretend along with the colors, just this once.

"Potter? What are you- what's going on here?" 'Snape' said. His greeting lacked the malice that was usually present.

"'M just hangin' out. Wot're youuuuu doing here?" More slurred speech.

"I was taking a walk around the castle when I heard something in here. Not that it's any of your business." The usual sharpness of the man's voice was back.

Harry stood shakily and stumbled his way over to his professor, keeping in mind that it wasn't _really _Snape, just the colors pretending again.

When he'd finally made his way across the tilting sea of lying grey, Harry leaned onto his professor and invaded his personal space.

"Mmmm, Sev," The boy mumbled into the warm neck of the sadistic colors that had taken on the shape of his ex-lover. "I missed you. I lo- I loveee you."

He heavily lifted his head and looked up at the smooth white that was the other man's face. Now, the red was creeping up onto the perfectly formed cheeks; that damned red was everywhere now. "Potter- Harry- Baby, don't do this." It was a plead for mercy and Harry wouldn't- couldn't listen to it. Their break up was the reason that Harry'd started doing this in the first place. The pleading resumed. "Harry, please, don't do this. We're over- we need to be over; it's safer for both of us! I love you, but… it's too goddamn dangerous!" Though Harry knew that this wasn't his ex-lover, just some colors pretending to be him, it still hurt.

Nevertheless, he began planting warm, wet kisses down the length of that pale, beautiful throat. Harry would pretend that the man was real; he needed to. He needed Severus and he needed this. He violently mashed his lips against the professor's, not caring that their noses had bumped painfully together. The kiss was hot and bruising and rough and Harry loved it.

'Severus' seemed to give in, for he wrapped his gorgeous arms around Harry's waste and lifted the smaller man off of the floor and into his arms. Harry's drug-addled brain was awash with sensation and emotion and he let out a little sob into the other man's mouth. Severus swallowed the small sound up and Harry's despair was gone, as if all of the emotion had tagged along with that sob and transferred from Harry to Severus. Severus always took Harry's pain away, whether he wanted to or not.

The older man carefully sat Harry down on top of the smear of brown, which was still pretending to be a desk. With careful reverence, he unbuttoned Harry's shirt and pants and just like that, the teen was naked. Severus thought he was divine- his lips were bowed and a pretty pink and his eyes were deep-set and almond shaped. Harry had grown out his hair, and it now reached the middle of his back. He kept it in a thick, single braid, allowing his longish bangs to escape and hang freely around his face- it was beautiful.

The still fully-robed Severus gripped Harry's pale thighs tightly and gently trailed his large, warm hands up the underside of them. He leaned forward and kissed Harry tenderly, all lips and no tongue.

Harry's body trembled as the older man carelessly shucked his robe and trousers. Severus was just as beautiful as Harry remembered him to be; he was all long, thickly muscled legs and taut stomach and strong arms. Harry, himself, was different- his legs were rather short and slender and he was obscenely skinny. Instead of a nice, flat abdomen like Severus had, Harry's hips poked out and the skin between them sagged in and created a little dip, which led up to ribs-which could be counted- and slender shoulders.

Severus seemed to like the dip though, because he lowered his face to it and rubbed his cheek reverently over the soft skin there, before gently sinking his teeth into a jutting left hip bone and sucking the skin into his mouth. When the skin was thoroughly abused and purpled, Severus released his hold on it and paid homage to Harry's hollowed abdomen again. He kissed across it and buried his nose into the soft skin, smelling and worshipping and loving; he let out a half-broken little sob that the skin stifled. He brought his hands up and rubbed the skin around Harry's bellybutton, remembering the days when the area had been round and swollen and full of _life._

And just like that, Harry's anguish was back and he remembered the days when he and Severus had been together and happy and he hadn't been obscenely skinny. He'd been healthy and vibrant and beautiful and Severus had been proud, _so proud_ of the small man whose body had housed the result of their love. It was before the school had had to be canceled and before the Order had had to move into Hogwarts and turn it into a fortress for the light. It was before the war and before the deaths- _so many deaths_- and before the surprise attack on Hogwarts that had left Harry half-dead and which had ended the growing life that had been residing inside of him. It was before the drugs.

Severus abandoned the little dip- resolutely ignoring the ugly scar on the right side of it- and carefully crawled onto the desk and above Harry. His form was larger than Harry's and he was careful not to squash him as he lowered his body on top of the boy's and lay there for a minute, soaking up the feeling of their skin meeting for the first time in what surely had to be forever. He stared deep into Harry's eyes. The deep pools of green held a sadness that should not have been present in a man Harry's age and as they watered and squinted with the effort to restrain the oncoming tears, Severus felt his heart breaking in two. Harry's shoulders shook and he let out a gasping, sobbing breath and Severus, in a desperate attempt at comfort, kissed the corner of Harry's lips and rubbed his cheek against the other man's. Harry sniffed and took a deep breath, before wrapping his legs around Severus' hips and grinding their hips together.

Both of them were undeniably aroused now- even through their anguish- and Harry let out a keening mewl at the friction. Severus, forever stoic, only let out a breath harshly through his nose.

Severus' left hand trailed down the side of Harry's body, gliding over bumpy rips and a sharp hip, under the boy's body and along the smooth curve of the boy's delicious rear, finally locating his entrance. In no time, he had his man prepared- sans lubricant. The man was small, but tough, and Severus knew he could take it.

Even in his drug-induced haze, Harry knew what was happening and tightened his legs more firmly around the older man. Severus entered his man in one smooth movement and Harry's back arched. His mouth opened in a silent scream and his eyes clinched tightly together as his world flared in a wave of pain.

Severus stayed still, sweat dripping in small beads down his neck and chest.

Eventually, Harry's body relaxed and he gave Severus a _squeeze _and then it was frantic and fast and blazing and, _oh god,_ it was good. Severus rose to his knees and yanked Harry's legs up around his waste, frantically pounding into the young body. Harry's back arched again, this time in overwhelming pleasure, and his mouth dropped open.

Another wail, this time loud and filled with heartache, escaped Harry's lips and Severus realized with belated accuracy that Harry- his Harry, _always _his Harry- needed love and he needed it now.

Severus forced his body to slow to a gentle rocking and he bent over Harry, once more initiating the closeness of before. Harry's small hands wrapped around Severus' neck and twisted in the soft strands of hair there. He leaned his head up and fused his lips perfectly with Severus' and when he lowered his head again, it was to find that the power of Severus' thrusts from before had pushed their bodies to the other side of the desk. Now, his head dangled from the edge. His hair tie had come off- Harry didn't know when- and his hair hung straight down, the longest tips just brushing the floor.

Severus must have noticed this, for he brought his right hand up to the back of Harry's head and cradled it, supporting the weight of it for Harry. Harry let out yet another sob and, though he was unsure of what he had done wrong, Severus lowered his face to Harry's and planted kisses all over it, dimly aware of the salty taste he encountered. "I love you." It was unclear which of them had whispered it; perhaps it was both of them. Severus continued rocking into his man.

The pressure was building now and the two raced towards their peaks together, simultaneously shooting from the plateau and into nirvana. They clenched each other tightly and gritted their teeth. Harry's choked gasp and Severus' deep growl echoed in the room.

Severus pulled out of Harry gently and lay down beside him; they lay there for a moment, minds hazy with sex and heat. Harry's drugs were still in effect and he smiled remorsefully at Severus- he'd given in to the colors and now he regretted it. They weren't real and he knew it; he'd never have Severus again. And so, Harry turned away from the colors that were lying to him and curled into a ball, alone and cold and throbbing with hurt. Sleep took him almost immediately.

Severus sat up and looked around the room, surveying his surroundings for the first time. His eyes came to rest upon a brown paper bag. A muggle syringe and a little clear bottle sat next to it and Severus' face grew grim- that explained a lot. He exhaled a disappointed breath and transformed the desk they were resting on into a soft feather mattress, conjuring a blanket and curling up behind Harry. His man whimpered in his sleep as Severus spooned up behind him comfortably.

All night, Severus was plagued with memories and thoughts that ran rampant through his mind- guilt and shame and love and devotion all swelled and warred inside of him. Eventually, surrounded by the blackness of the night, he came to a decision. With that, the man finally allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

The light of the early morning startled Harry awake and he sat up, rubbing his eyes and blinking owlishly in the golden dawn. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and thought back to the night before. As usual, Harry had taken his beloved Heroin and shot up in an abandoned classroom- just as he had every other fucking night since- since _it_ happened.

Last night, though, had been particularly intense. He'd dreamed- or hallucinated- that Severus and he had made love again. The sadness came in waves now, crumbling Harry's resolve to be alive. He curled into a ball and gripped his hair, pulling it in his anguish. Hot, fat tears splattered onto the mattress in front of him.

Wait-

Mattress?

Harry sat up instantly and looked around- where the hell had a mattress come from? He searched the room for his bag and found it to be gone. Thoroughly panicked- what if someone had found him?- Harry plopped down onto the mattress again. "Ow!"

He jumped up and pulled an envelope from under his rear- he'd sat on it. It was made of thick paper and had his name typed neatly on the front. Typed? Who typed anything in the wizarding world? And how had he missed this?

He ripped open the top of the envelope frantically, wondering just what in the hell was going on. A small ring fell out of the envelope and into Harry's hand. It was a plain silver band, elegant in its simplicity.

Filled with trepidation, Harry pulled the only other thing inside the envelope- a small sheet of paper- out. It was folded in half and Harry took a deep breath before unfolding it.

Harry recognized the handwriting before he even read the words. After taking classes from a man for seven years and dating him for two, Harry could recognize the handwriting from a mile away.

Very few words were written in that sloping, elegant hand that Harry loved so much. They brought tears to his eyes and he let out a disbelieving, choked chuckle.

_Marry me?_


End file.
